Once I went to Maine and stayed at a lovely house. Next to the pool in the backyard was a cute little tree full of delicious ripe peaches. I had never seen a peach tree, nor had I ever eaten a fresh peach.
One morning I woke up and picked some peaches. I decided to make my friend a Peach Cobbler from his mother's recipe. He located the recipe, I gathered the ingredients and set to work.
As I cut into the fresh peach to remove the pit, the juices freely and abundantly ran down my fingers into a bowl.
The aroma was amazing as I cut into the peach. It was all I could do not to abandon my project and just eat the peaches as they were.
Needless to say, that was not the goal. In the end I made my first Peach Cobbler for my dear friend and his Dad and we all were happy.
One morning I woke up and picked some peaches. I decided to make my friend a Peach Cobbler from his mother's recipe. He located the recipe, I gathered the ingredients and set to work.
As I cut into the fresh peach to remove the pit, the juices freely and abundantly ran down my fingers into a bowl.
The aroma was amazing as I cut into the peach. It was all I could do not to abandon my project and just eat the peaches as they were.
Needless to say, that was not the goal. In the end I made my first Peach Cobbler for my dear friend and his Dad and we all were happy.
